


When Dumb was the Smartest You've Ever Been

by MortalAnonymous



Category: League of Super Evil
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Cutesy, During Canon, Evil, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Love Confessions, M/M, Romance, Villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24256135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MortalAnonymous/pseuds/MortalAnonymous
Summary: After the events of Strong Frogg, Red brings home a keepsake that might be a little more tell-tale than Frogg, who is already prepared to forget the entire episode, could have anticipated. What has his dumb self brought onto the current him?
Relationships: Doktor Frogg/Red Menace
Comments: 15
Kudos: 6





	When Dumb was the Smartest You've Ever Been

As the members of the League of Super Evil departed from the villainous superstore no longer about to blow up in senseless self-destruction, leaving the owner of the establishment who had trapped them there in the first place just to avoid giving Dr. Frogg a refund, to wallow in his defeat, Red Menace was the only one to pause momentarily on his way out the door. He took a quick sidle back to the desk his mad scientist colleague had sat at during Red's impromptu schooling session, meant to jog the man's brains back into functioning after he'd turned them into pure brawn. The perky giant's face lit up as he found what he'd been seeking immediately: a sheet of paper that his pupil had displayed proudly at him with a bitten lip instead of paying attention to the lesson.

There were only three simple doodles, but they had been plenty to make Red blush and giggle quite bashfully. Those doodles were of an eye, a large prominent valentine, and an unmistakable likeness of Red himself.

Now that the crisis was over, Red could admire the declaration freely. Well, almost freely. His head tipped and he allowed himself one 'awww' to find the note just as sweet, endearing and butterfly-inducing as the first time, before turning and trotting after his compatriots, neatly tucking his prize away.

In the relative safety of his own room – teammates bursting in unannounced still an easy possibility – the chipper giant flopped onto his bed belly-first and grabbed his pillow, legs kicking like a teenage girl as he allowed himself to ogle that piece of paper more openly. A tiny titter escaped as he thought about the implications. Gosh, had Dr. Frogg really meant it? Sure he'd been a musclebound lughead at the time, but he was still _him._ And the message was so straight-forward. What if turning off all his brain's inhibitors had just let the man finally say something he'd been too afraid to? Or was Red just being too hopeful?

It was exciting to think someone had a crush on little old him. He wasn't anything special, was he? And if that person crushing on him was a life-long friend that he already loved and cherished, like he did all of his teammates, then wouldn't that just be all the better? Red didn't care about details like man, woman, looks, or much at all really when it came to things like this. He was about the most accepting person on the planet. And while he'd never particularly thought about elevating his relationship with one of his friends, he would hardly be against such a notion. It would be rude to not at least give them a shot.

A hundred 'what ifs' started flooding into Red's head, twirling and skipping delightfully through his thoughts. Thinking about romancing his dear friend, making his dream come true and falling in love right back, was starting to sound so appealing. Should he _ask_ the doctor about his feelings? He must not have brought them up before for a reason, right? Maybe he _was_ worried? Perhaps he needed coaxing. But would it be rude to confront him?

Before he could have too long to ponder any potential course of action, his door was slammed open and the pint-sized fearless leader of L.O.S.E., Voltar, shrilly demanded he come downstairs and lift the couch so he could retrieve his “most evilest scheming pen”, which had escaped him in order to “hide from his genius” and “would not be allowed to cower in such a fashion”.

Springing up with a chipper salute, the green-suited Red dropped everything he was occupied with in a practiced fashion and prioritized his henchman duties, following Voltar to perform his gruntwork with his usual smile.

Red would ponder his options for the next few days, passing the team's scientist an extra curious glance now and then. The man was acting perfectly normal, like he hadn't had any special notes about his adventures as a bulky lummox. It was just another episode in their lives. Red found that more curious. Was he thinking too much about the note after all? The only difference was that Frogg appeared once more content to be all brains while the rest of him was limp noodle, and he came to Red about problems requiring muscle a bit more readily.

However, even if Frogg seemed to be acting just as he ever had – snarky, deadpan, gloomy yet maniacal - the prospect of some underlying tension had taken hold of Red's mind and _he_ was certainly noting a change. The bulky henchman found himself feeling just a tad warmer around the other, and slightly nervous as a result, which may or may not have resulted in a few knee-jerk reactions that had gotten Dr. Frogg into an accident...or several. It was a good thing the man was so resilient. That was an impressive trait to Red. He'd always admired the doctor. As he'd told him just recently, he would trade his muscles for an amazing brain like Frogg's in an instant. And for as accident-prone as he was, he never let it stop him from doing the mad science he loved. Not since he'd been the first friend Red had made at Superhero Kiddie College.

It was unavoidable to think about things like this when the burning question was on Red's tongue whether or not Frogg harbored any special feelings for him. He didn't want to pressure, but the more he speculated, he kind of _wanted_ it to be true. It was still an exciting thought. And Frogg was such a great guy. Red could see himself with him easily. Unfortunately, Frogg did not seem to be interested in bringing the topic up any time soon. Or at all.

At last, Red decided he would get to the bottom of this once and for all. He still wanted to let Frogg start the conversation in case he truly did have something he secretly would like to mention brewing inside, but figured out a brilliant way to coax the subject into getting brought up. One morning as the team assembled for breakfast, Red first down as always, he posted the paper he'd been keeping on the refrigerator with a peppy whistle.

Frogg, only a moment behind him as the usual second party to arrive – first to drag himself out of bed rather than hop out of it – entered the kitchen in a deep groggy slouch, one metal bronze claw hand dragging behind him while the other wafted over his mouth in a yawn. One might have thought his frightful nest of black hair was from bedhead, but no, it was kept that way regularly.

Blinking in disinterest as he watched Red rummage through the fridge for breakfast ingredients, Frogg's attention was then caught as his fellow minion straightened with an armload of goodies and stepped away to a counter, letting the refrigerator door swing closed. There, flapping lightly into place for all to see, was a new item. Frogg squinted at it for a second, registering the doodles and feeling like he ought to recognize them from somewhere. Then his eyes hit the final one and his brow went up in sudden recollection.

At once all fatigue left him and his posture shot up in alarm. “Ahhhh!! Where did you get that?!” he demanded, rushing for the fridge with determination to erase the incriminating note from existence.

Instead he found himself crashing into Red's front as the solid man stepped to block his path. Dr. Frogg felt as though he'd rammed into a brick wall and collapsed as such.

“Morning, Dr. Frogg!” Red beamed down at the man groaning in pain, “Noticing the new artwork? Yeah, I just couldn't keep it from the public any longer. Something this special deserves the highest place of honor: the _friiidge~..!_ ” He took a moment to gesture gleefully to the appliance, showing it off in an ambient angelic glow seemingly triggered by his words.

Peeling himself off the ground and giving himself a good dusting, Frogg's face sterned as he was ignored and insisted, “ _No,_ it does _not!_ And I repeat: _where_ did you even _get_ that?!” His claws were held open in aggravation.

“From your school desk at Rotten Core, silly! Where else?” the larger man passed off with a flip of his wrist, “Don't you remember drawing it for me while you were all muscled up and in need of some smarts lessons?” He swung his curled arms in a chipper miming of a large frame, made somewhat comical by the fact that his own frame was so large. His elbow nudged the fridge and it wobbled. Next Red clasped his hands next to his cheek. “It was just so sweet, I couldn't _help_ but keep it~!” Finally, he placed a coy finger to his lips and puzzled, “Why? Was I not supposed to? You made it for _me,_ after all...”

A few flustered, perplexed nonsense syllables stuttered out of Frogg's mouth, his claws only curling tighter, before he found his words. “I don't care!” he said with authority, pointing behind the other at the offending drawing, “You take that thing down _right_ now!”

Red folded his arms. “Well _I_ care,” he countered, “And _I_ think it is a lovely expression that begs to be shared. Discussed! Pondered for the ages..!”

“It's not art, Red! _Take_ _it_ _down!!”_

A third voice joined the two from the doorway. “What are we taking down..? Is it Steve's lawn ornaments? At long last..?” The others would twist their necks to find Voltar scratching his rear and glowering at them in a mix of annoyance and fatigue.

“Morning, Voltar~!” Red greeted with a cheery wave as the shrimpy leader made his way to the kitchen table to hop up into a seat. “You're up earlier than usual!”

Voltar grumbled and rolled his eyes. “I couldn't _not_ be what with all that _screaming_...I swear, Frogg, your voice is like...something really scrape-y on a...thing that's high and screechy. I was gonna yell at you guys, but...” A large yawn accompanied by a stretch. “It is _way_ too early.” Blearily, he reached for a box of cereal and attempted to pour it before realizing he'd forgotten a bowl. He blinked at the pile of generic brown rings before giving a careless shrug and scooping a spoonful under the lip of his helmet dry. “Anyway. Lawn ornaments?”

“Oh, Voltar, you don't have to do that,” Red assured as his boss as he attempted to prepare himself breakfast, “I was going to make eggloaf!” A proud gesture to at least a dozen eggs so far that he'd sloppily cracked into a baking pan next to the sink.

More insistently, Frogg pressed, arms gesturing in disbelief, “And we are _not_ talking about Steve's lawn ornaments! There are _so_ many much more worthwhile evil plans we could be enacting today than beheading a few plaster gnomes and plastic flamingos!”

Voltar leaned forward over the table slightly, one side of his bright red helmet tilting like a quirked brow as he inquired, “Such aaaaas..?” If someone could suggest anything more vile and worthy of his greatness than vandalizing his self-assigned arch rival, Steve the neighbor, he was all ears. Or, all antennae, the two wobbly things atop his helmet being the closest thing to his ears anyone had seen.

“Agh, anything!” Frogg threw his claws overhead, “I don't care!”

Voltar gasped dramatically, seizing the edge of the table to hear his nemesis' catchphrase uttered. “He's _gotten_ to you..!” he hushed with inflated eyes and wilted antennae, the fear in his voice quite genuine. Then the next second his antennae perked back up with interest and a quizzical look was back on his masked face as he leaned to the side to attempt a better view of the fridge. “Hey. What's that?”

Spine straightening again in tension, the doctor realized that as Red stepped away to continue preparing his eggloaf, the paper on the fridge was much more visible. Quickly he stepped to block it entirely from view. “Nothing!” he insisted crossly.

On cue, like summoned by the timing of any worst possible moment, the team doomhound teleported in, onto the counter right behind Frogg in a burst of blue flames. The doctor turned to see the dingy brown beast reach to the appliance beside him and snatch the posted confession up in his razor teeth.

Red saw this and gasped, hurrying to snatch the note. “No! Bad Doomy!” he scolded, waggling a wooden spoon in threat, “That does not belong to you! Drop iiit..!”

For once, Dr. Frogg saw the arrival of the team's fourth member and pet of sorts as a benefit. Usually _he_ was the chew toy, but now he only grinned and encouraged the tug of war now taking place. “No, _good_ Doomageddon! Eat it! I'm sure you must be starved, heheh...that worthless old piece of paper will make a fine appetizer..!”

Red gasped now, hurt. “Worthless?!”

Doomageddon paused, looking at the scientist in blue like praise from the man was confusing him. That wasn't normal. So, since he usually liked to give the man as hard a time as possible – call contradiction a doomhound's way of expressing friendliness – he promptly teleported in another burst of flames, off to the other side of the kitchen to wait patiently by his food bowl, posture perfect and his mace-like tail wagging.

Frogg barely got a second to note this contradiction and consider that it might help him in dealing with the beast in the future when Voltar cut in again, an accusing finger towards the paper now limp in Red's grip.

“That is most certainly not _nothing,_ Frogg! What are you keeping from me? A secret map to a deposit of evilly spicy nacho cheese? The recipe to destroying Steve's eternal apathy once and for all? _A flyer for a sale on used patio furniture?”_

Gripping his head in frustration, Frogg let out a yell and began rushing around the kitchen at top speed. He'd had enough of his nosy teammates and the encroaching need to have to explain himself to them. “Ok! That does it! It's none of your business, and I am going to need to have a _little_ talk with Red this morning, so why don't you both just take this and go eat in your rooms or something! Anywhere that's _not_ here!”

In the time it had taken him to finish talking, he had miraculously taken over and finished Red's mission to cook the team's morning meal, and plopped a hearty specialized breakfast into both Voltar and Doomageddon's arms, as well as pushed both of them to the kitchen doorway.

Both parties that had been shoved took a moment to register what had happened before looking down at the highly appetizing food that had been made for them. “Woohooooo!” Voltar cheered, springing into the air with a pumped fist before happily zooming off to hoard his spoils lest Frogg change his mind. The madman was actually a brilliant chef, the best of them all in fact, but he preferred to let Red do it for the rest of them out of laziness. A meal made by Frogg was a real treat. Plus, Voltar was just pleased anyone had cooked for him and now he didn't need to eat his dry table cereal.

Doomageddon expressed similar pleasure with a toothy quirked grin before disappearing to parts unknown in a fiery burst.

Dr. Frogg let out a small breath of relief before turning back to the man now holding the slightly-gnawed piece of paper with a severe case of Pouty Lip. Ignoring that, the goggled madman picked up the remainder of the eggloaf he'd spruced up during his cooking frenzy and declared, “Ok. Now it's our turn. I don't trust this kitchen, so follow me.”

A nice place of solitude was sought over the course of the next few minutes. Dr. Frogg's lab was counted out on account of a random explosion proving it was not quiet. Outside at the park proved just as bad with the commotion of citizens frolicking about. Underwater proved difficult to speak through. The moon was almost a good bet until Skullosus, world's highest ranking supervillain, passed by in his giant spaceship.

Finally, the two were seated in the sewers, on a concrete walkway beside the filthy rushing water.

“Ahh...” Frogg relaxed, glad to be at least somewhat confident of privacy. Perking, he offered the dish he'd been carrying. “Eggloaf?”

Not having let up his pout during the minutes-long trek, Red dug a fork into the dish with just as much sulking energy. “Thank you.” He chewed the food flatly. “It's delicious.”

“Thanks. Uhh...heheh.” Frogg was running out of ways to not acknowledge the elephant in the room. He took a bite too.

“You're _welcome.”_

Scoffing, Frogg put his wrists on his hips. “Ok, why are _you_ upset? _I'm_ the one you just wildly embarrassed!”

“Yeah, well...you didn't wanna talk to me..!” Red countered, “And I _wanted_ you to talk to me! I don't see why you think this is so embarrassing anyway, because I guess my feelings are _worthless_ to you, so you really must _not_ care for me after all!” He shoved the drawing he still held out in accusation.

“A-whu...dyuh-!” Frogg sputtered as he shook his head in perplex. _“Your_ feelings?” he baffled, “What are you talking about? You're trying to assign meaning to _this,_ aren't you?” He pointed at the note before flapping his claws in insistence. “I wrote that when I wasn't myself! Nothing I did or said when I was Strong Frogg counts!”

Red's lips thinned as that clearly stung. “Except your _refund money_ , huh?”

Caught, Frogg flustered some more. “Wha—well...ok. I admit I still had the same consciousness. And motivations. And...personality...and...memories...” He was not making a great case for himself here, he realized. Hurrying to improve that, he pressed, “But come on, man! I was also really, _really dumb!!”_

Brow pinching upward, Red sighed. Had he really been reading that note wrong, then? “Yes...yes you were,” he admitted, “But what about after that? With your big brain back, you _had_ to remember all the stuff you did when you were dumb, right..? Did you really forget about making me this..? Did you not...think about what I might've thought about it..?” Slumping, the giant looked at the paper in hand forlorn now. He took another bite of eggloaf.

“Uhm...” Quite honestly, Dr. Frogg hadn't expected anything like this as a response to some stupid immature flirting he'd never meant to do. He'd planned on both of them forgetting it had ever happened and dying with the memory buried. He felt guilty to see Red look almost disappointed to hear the note meant nothing, and a flutter in his gut to hear Red had some thoughts about it. Serious thoughts.

Clearing his throat a bit awkwardly, Frogg swallowed a new forkful of eggloaf and ventured, “I...didn't forget...but I also...didn't think you would have thoughts? Or maybe...hoped? I mean...it was just a _stupid_ slip of the brain.” Two of his six claw fingers clinked together timidly as he hid behind his hands a bit. Glancing over, he added, “But you really kept that...huh?”

Frowning, the redhead was not comforted much by this answer. “I did,” he confirmed the obvious, “But I guess that was a pretty stupid slip of the brain, too. This really meant nothing to you..?” He supposed he couldn't be too upset. He only had himself to blame for getting worked up over it.

Frogg was definitely sensing some disappointment. “Maybe...” he replied vaguely, eyes flicking to the side, “Uhm...though, for sheer curiosity's sake...what _were_ your feelings about it, then..?”

Red's head went back slightly and a brow quirked. That was a weird response. If it had meant nothing, surely it would have been easy to simply continue denying, right? But Frogg was hesitating. But wait. Could that actually mean..?

A small, knowing smile began spreading on Red's lips, and he slowly leaned in closer to the doctor, who now looked confused and uneasy. “Truth first.”

Instantly the doctor tensed and a splash of hue crossed the bridge of his nose. “Wh-whaaat..?” Red couldn't be serious. Had he somehow cracked the evil genius' brilliant front? To be on the safe side, the solution here was to play dumb. His tone was all over the place as he attempted that, though.

“I'll tell you how I feel about your feelings,” Red promised, “But first _you_ gotta tell me what those feelings _are~._ ”

Frogg blanched grimly under a blush that had deepened a few shades. No! He hadn't signed up for this! Just deny everything! Keep denying! It was easier! Alas, it didn't seem he could commit one hundred percent to that now that Red was suspiciously close to revealing his most closely-guarded secret. Did he maybe almost want him to? “No way, man!” he burst, only managing to insist, “It's too _weird!_ ”

Red's smile widened. “ _What's_ weird~?”

“Guuuuh! Don't make me do this, Red! You know what's weird! All of this!” Metal claws gestured wildly at the surrounding sewer where they were sharing their breakfast.

“Aww, c'mon,” Red encouraged, no longer put off by Frogg's defensiveness now that he was certain he'd pegged it as such, “Where's that Dr. Frogg courage I've seen so often? Sure you're a coward, but you're a _brave_ coward! If you believe in something, you go after it with everything you've got! So are you going to let something silly like admitting the truth stop you?”

“Yes!” Frogg folded his arms bluntly. “I'm evil. I tell lies all the time.”

Red sagged with an unimpressed face. He'd thought it had been such a swell speech, too.

The goggled man slumped too, with a frazzled groan, feeling that pressuring guilt inside him. He didn't want to hurt Red. He didn't want to disappoint him either. But making him spill the beans was such an unfair, underhanded tactic!

Actually, in a way, it was impressive. Considering it was the minion with nary an evil bone in his body accomplishing it.

“But that's the weird part!” Frogg went on, “That I, a brilliant mastermind of evil, could find a happy-go-lucky, goody-goody, barely-evil-at-all smiling nimrod like you... _attractive!_ It's _embarrassing!”_

A short gasp of delight as Red's cheeks pinched upward. His hands pressed gleefully together in front of him. “You mean it, Dr. Frogg~? You really _do_ like me~?”

Rolling his eyes and scoffing at how he was being forced to repeat himself, not to mention how Red had only taken away that one single fact, Frogg at least found it easier to say now that the ice had been broken. “Yes. It's kind of hard not to. _Everyone_ likes you. You're just so...considerate, and...pleasant...and you know how I feel about strong, protective types...aheheh...” That blush was spreading as he tapped two claws together again.

Trying to recover his dignity before he went somewhere too gushy, he hurried to insist, “But it's still _weird!_ I mean like...you've been my best friend since forever, man! Somehow! Still as a goody-goody. Just sticking there with me. Supporting. But I mean we're also coworkers!” Dang it, why couldn't he reinforce how ridiculous this notion was consistently?

A high-pitched gleeful note coming from Red Menace's nose made him almost resemble a tea kettle. He doubted he could smile much wider than he currently was. “Oh, Dr. Frogg, don't you see??” he exclaimed, “That's exactly why I think it's all so _perfect!_ ”

“D'wha..?” One of the madman's lower eyelids pinched in confusion. Red was so enthusiastic about hearing his words it was nearly off-putting.

“Archibald Frogg, this confession you lovingly doodled in your drooling lack-wit state meant so much to me,” Red said with determination, holding the note up in equal resolution. Frogg blinked. “It made me feel special! I didn't know why you thought I was worth such special attention, but it made me happy. And it got me thinking. And y'know, I think there's no one I'd rather _get_ such special attention from than someone I already _know_ is the closest life-long companion I could ask for.”

Frogg blinked again, rather sure his entire face was burning up. That was confirmed when a tiny flame appeared at the tip of his well-mussed hair. Jumping, the man in blue let out a small yipe and hastened to address the issue.

“Portable fire extinguisher!” Red grinned and pointed the pocket-sized device in Frogg's face. In an instant, the man was soaked in foam and most definitely extinguished. “Don't worry, I remembered how susceptible you are to spontaneous combustion and packed accordingly..!”

Even if he wasn't on fire, Frogg still felt hot. “J-Jeez, Red...I had no idea I had done that to you. I guess I'm...sorry for pretending everything was so trivial?” Apologizing wasn't normally up his alley, but he did feel he owed the large man something. As well, he kind of felt like an idiot. He should have known Red would be ridiculously receptive of his feelings. Even better, he seemed more than willing to accept him.

“Apology accepted!” chirped the red-haired minion, tossing the spent mini-extinguisher.

The scrawny party chuckled, flicking foam from himself. “I guess _that's_ a few years of stress I could have saved, huh?”

Red's brow quirked. “How many years have you been keeping this a secret?” he wondered.

Hunching in another spot of guilt, Frogg avoided looking at the other and twiddled one claw vaguely. “Ohhh, like...fifteen..?”

Tongue clucking, Red shook his head disapprovingly at that. “Oh, Dr. Frogg...” Well, the man hadn't been lying about being good at lying.

“I know...” the guilty party relented, shrinking a tiny bit more before bursting, “But how was I supposed to know _confronting_ the problem would go so smoothly!”

“Hmp.” Red smirked just a tad. “I think I only see _one_ problem here.”

“Oh..? And what's that?”

Without warning, the man in green snatched the other up and into his arms, squeezing him against his cheek in a firm seated embrace. “I have got a _lot_ of snuggling to catch up on~!”

“O-Oh..! Uh...heheh...” This caught Frogg off-guard easily, and he hoped his persistent blush wouldn't end up giving him a fever. “S-So does that mean we...that is to say you think you might want to...”

“Mmmmmmwah~!” One elated and vocal kiss was delivered to a pair of now-stunned lips. “Yup!” Red perked once he'd finished, now giving the man he held an affectionate nuzzle, sure his own face was tinged as healthily a color as the mad scientist's.

Frogg was beyond words as well as belief, stun making way for a series of decidedly awkward and unattractive snort-giggles. He was admittedly not the best at handling romantic feelings. As he had been demonstrating.

Luckily, all his stilted jittering seemed to accomplish was endearing the other henchman even further. “I'm glad you approve! Haha, hey, how long do you think until we're playing Voltar's parents in some wacky misunderstanding as a _real_ married couple?” That situation already came up far more often than one might expect.

“Gu-huh..!” Now Frogg was sure he was about to have a heart attack. He pushed at Red's face in protest. “Sweet evil below! _Red!_ Don't _say_ things like that!” Somebody was sure optimistic about where things were headed...after the first five seconds of being declared a couple.

Red gave a good-natured chuckle at the less sentimental man's offense. “Ok, maybe that was a bit much,” he granted, “Hmmm, what about a nickname? Can I call you Archie?!” A more excited grin now.

“Eeehhhh...no.” That was about the stupidest name ever.

“Ok. I'll just call you Honey Bunch~!”

Dr. Frogg sat corrected.

“How about just 'Dr. Frogg'...” he voted. It was his evil title and he liked it just fine.

“Hmmmmm...” Red squinted. “Noooo promises...” He was a cutesy nicknamer. This was common knowledge. He was bound to find one.

“Also, how about we just finish breakfast for now?” came a second vote hoping to steer Red's mind away from all that fluffy, sappy nonsense. Picking up a forkful of said breakfast led Frogg to uttering a small “oh”, however. The entire eggloaf had been coated in extinguisher foam.

That didn't seem to bother Red. Blissfully he chomped down on the fork Frogg was staring at in hesitation. “Nummy! Carbon monoxide frosting!”

Well, the man was built like a tank in more ways than one. He could eat just about anything just as much as he was indestructible and strong. Frogg gave a small nervous laugh, still not entirely sold on the idea, but was more than happy to let Red have the rest of the loaf. He would just get something else inside.

Upon entering the lair, accompanied by leftover foam stains and an empty baking pan, the two found Voltar immediately upon passing the first doorway, which opened into the living room. He was slouched staring at the TV with a notepad in hand. Doomageddon was napping off a big meal in the corner.

“Hey, Voltar!” Red greeted enthusiastically as ever, “Dr. Frogg and I are back from the sewers! And I've got great news! We're _boyfriends_ now~!”

“Red..!” Frogg shushed, not so sure he was ready to go announcing that willy-nilly just yet. He was not entirely over the embarrassment of his own taste.

Voltar didn't even look at them. “Uh-huh. Yeah. That's great. Don't care. Can you _believe_ this product, though?! It's like giant...scissors~! _Imagine_ how many garden flamingos those could decapitate!” He emitted a giddy giggle and kicked at the very thought.

The standing pair looked at the commercial. “Hedge trimmers..?” Dr. Frogg puzzled.

“ _Yes~!”_ Voltar squealed, “I demand that you help me acquire these 'hedge trimmers' immediately! And then it's goodbye to every last _one_ of Steve's stupid little lawn decorations! You hear that, Steve?! Your plastic precious' necks' hours are numbered!!”

The shout directed at the neighbor was met with a distant and apathetic, “I don't caaaare..!” Voltar let out an irate noise and clenched his fists.

“Uh, Voltar,” Frogg took the opportunity to point out, “You realize Steve probably already _owns_ hedge trimmers...he has hedges...ergo...” A half-hearted narrative motion with one claw as he pointed out the obvious missed detail in what was clearly going to be today's evil scheme. The tiny man just couldn't let an idea go once it was in his head.

Springing up, Voltar tented his fingers eagerly. “Even better..! We shall conquer Steve's yard...with his own devices! Muahahahaha!” Bending back, he let out his trademarked claw-fingered laugh before suddenly snapping a commanding finger at his minions. “Men! It's time to breach...Steve's garaaaage!”

Hopping off the couch, all set to skip ahead a few steps in the plan if hedge trimmers were so easy to acquire, he marched for the door, pausing only midway to round on the dozing doomhound with his finger of authority. “Doomageddon! Guard the fortress! There's no telling what dastardly forces Steve plans on sending our way when he thinks we're vulnerable!”

Doomageddon snorted in his sleep and twitched a hind leg.

“Good boy!” Voltar praised, bragging to the others on the way out, _“Total_ obedience~. Now then! To _the_ _slaughter!”_

“Yes, Voltar...” Frogg relented with a dreary sigh, then mumbling to himself, “I would've liked to at least showered first...” Red just gave a peppy salute and marched after their fearless leader.


End file.
